Bite Me: Part I
by bowtruckle90
Summary: An American comes to work for the Auror Office. Williamson gets more than he bargained for in his new partner. Rated M for adult scenes and themes. I own only my OC and related characters.


THE OFFER

Anne-Marie was always nervous in hospital settings. Especially unfamiliar ones. But it was crucial she meet the man she hopes was going to help her. The waiting room was empty at this early hour. It was as though the place was deserted. All Anne-Marie ever saw was a trainee running from one room to another once in a great while.

After some time there were heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Anne-Marie stood up and turned toward he sound to meet a portly man with red cheeks and a smile. He extended his hand toward her and showed a gleaming row of teeth. "Welcome Miss Dalton. I'm so glad to see you arrived in Britain well."

Anne-Marie took the offered hand and shook it. "As well as I could possibly be after such a long trip, Healer Seether. Sorry to have requested such an early time, but I have a meeting to get to and I'd rather reach my next destination before dawn breaks out completely."

They walked down the hall together, Anne-Marie with her tote bag and a white sweater slung over her arm. "So, you've found a job already, have you?"

Anne-Marie shook her head. "I don't know. As soon as I arrived at the Ministry to register myself with them and get my citizenship card I get a letter at my new apartment before I even have a chance to unpack asking to visit someone with a prospect for me. A Mr. Shacklebolt. Do you know him?"

Seether chuckled. "Do I know him? I treat him and his underlings regularly. He's a big deal at the auror office."

Anne-Marie hadn't known that. All she knew was that her presence was requested at the office of Magical Law Enforcement that morning. They sat in Seether's office and shared a quick coffee while they discussed her condition and treatment plan. The symptoms of her condition, skin rashes from sunlight, the nocturnal sleep patterns, the need for human fluids for sustenance, were all treatable. As far as all of the believed traits of the condition, Seether presented Anne-Marie with a compiled list that had been created by the Minister's senior undersecretary several years before:

Physical characteristics:

-Pale skin

-Sensitivity to sunlight physically and/or visually

-Better night vision than day vision

-Eye color changing with mood or for no apparent reason

-Heightened senses

-Unaccounted-for strength (i.e., stronger than one should be) and quick reflexes

-Often feels hungry and/or thirsty despite an adequate food diet

-Does not require very much sleep and/or unexplained nocturnal tendencies

-Nocturnally based aggression

-Able to heal quicker than others

-Often get sick with "flu-like" symptoms when they go without feeding for a period of time

Mental characteristics:

-Predatory nature

-Dark nature

-Moodiness/mood swings/quick-tempered

-Mental and/or personality disorders

Psychic abilities:

-Invisibility, although not as in the Invisible Man kind of invisibility; the kind of invisibility where one can blend into a setting, room and/or crowd, and not be noticed by anyone looking for them.

Anne-Marie scoffed. "This is crazy. I met others like me and no one had this constellations of symptoms."

"Which ones do you have?" Seether asked. When Anne-Marie gave him a strange look he shrugged, saying, "It's for information purposes. There's not many like you who are so forthcoming. Part of my research is to collect information on how common certain traits are in those like you."

Anne-Marie considered the list again. "Well…sensitivity to light, physical and visual…better night vision…I still sleep as much but I have the nocturnal tendency thing…I hate to say it but I do have significant nocturnal aggression…my healing is quick I suppose…and I do get sick when I don't have a major feeding for more than a few days. I found I can temper it though, by consuming about a cup a day. From anything, doesn't matter what it's from as long as it's fresh."

Seether made his notes and proceeded to explain his intended course of action to help diminish the troublesome traits: nocturnal habits and the skin rashes from sun exposure (though he emphasized that it would take far more time for him to correct her vision from being sensitive). These were the things keeping her from living relatively normally. They made an appointment schedule and Anne-Marie was off just as the sky was turning pale pink and dove gray with the first light of day.

Anne-Marie made her way across town to the building beneath which was the British Ministry of Magic.

She took the elevator down to level two and asked the nearest employee in purple robes where the law enforcement office was. After being pointed in the right direction it was easy enough for her to find the auror office. She walked in hesitantly and made her way to a desk.

Sitting at the desk she approached was a man, younger than some of the others, in his twenties anyway. He had a long, dark ponytail reaching just past his shoulders and was leaning back in his chair and tossing a ball up and down while a quill wrote on a parchment set on the desk.

"Excuse me," Anne-Marie said cautiously. The man was startled a little and dropped the ball he was playing with. "I have an appointment with Mr. Shacklebolt. Is he in?"

The man smiled, saying, "I'm not a secretary, but I can show you to his office." He stood and motioned for Anne-Marie to follow him. As they walked through the department the man stretched out his hand to her. "Williamson. Wesley Williamson."

Anne-Marie took it and shook it lightly. "Anne-Marie Dalton."

"Quite an accent you have. American?"

Anne-Marie nodded. "Dallas, Texas."

They reached their location and the door was open. Williamson rapped his knuckles on the door frame and stuck his head inside. "I've got a Mrs. Dalton here for you."

A deep voice asked for Williamson to send her in and as he nodded and turned to leave, Anne-Marie said, "It's Miss Dalton."

Williamson smiled again before retreating back to his own work space. Anne-Marie watched him go for a moment before entering the office.

Sitting at a large wooden desk strewn with parchments and files was a tall dark man dressed in what looked like African styled robes. He smiled large enough to show his ivory teeth and stood up. "Miss Dalton, welcome." He spoke with a thick accent that wasn't entirely British. "Please sit."

She did and so did Shacklebolt. When they were both settled the man spoke. "I imagine you're wondering why I asked you to come here. Frankly I'm surprised you acquiesced to come. Answering a random note left on my doorstep would not even be an option, then again, you're new here."

"I figured since I know no one here yet anyone seeking me out must have been official somehow. And I figured that the Ministry was a safe enough place to go, even if I don't know anyone here." Anne-Marie did her best to look comfortable.

Shacklebolt smiled again. "I contacted your old department head at the Bureau of Defense at the United States Ministry of Magic. He said your record is exemplary. Best in the department. I could use someone like that here, if you're up to it."

"I thought the department head here was a man by the name of Scrimgeour."

Shacklebolt laughed heartily. "True. But he doesn't make decisions based on hiring of new agents who already have worked in the field, only the new graduates of the program. This falls under my jurisdiction."

Anne-Marie let her smile fade some. She sighed and looked toward Shacklebolt apologetically. "If you spoke to my former boss at the bureau, then you know the reason I left the job back in Dallas, and you know why I'm here. Clearly I'm not fit for duty."

"Ah," Shacklebolt countered leaning forward. "But you are here now and under the direct care of the leading expert in your particular predicament. You're the most capable agent in the US Ministry's bureau. Despite your condition, I believe you are more than fit for duty here. The choice is up to you, but you should be aware that all the aurors are fully covered for all medical care."

It took Anne-Marie less than ten seconds to reach her hand towards Shacklebolt and shake on it. She knew only too well the cost of her future treatments. She needed all the help she could get. After accepting Shacklebolt started showing her around, helped her order her robes and showed her to the crib where there were several cots for catching some zees while working a case. Finally he marched her through the main office where the various desks sat. When they reached Williamson's he stopped and said, "Wesley, meet your new partner, Anne-Marie. Get out of here, get some lunch get to know each other."

A half hour later Anne-Marie found herself sitting in a booth with Williamson at The Leaky Cauldron, a pub on the hidden store front littered street for magical products in the middle of London. They ordered a pitcher of butterbeer and sandwiches and did exactly what Shacklebolt asked them to: talked.

"So you're from Texas. What about family?"

"I have my father. My mother was a muggle. She didn't handle the life of being married to a bureau member very well and when I was five I started showing signs of magical talent she left. She'd had enough. I've been with dad ever since. No step parents, no brothers or sisters. You?"

Williamson gulped his beer and nodded. "One brother, Aaron, younger. He works in the gaming department, handling the gambling fiends who place bets. Parents are both alive and well, enjoying retirement in the country."

"Retirement," Anne-Marie echoed. "What were their previous occupations?"

"Dad was a private investigator. Mum was a stay at home mother. Since Aaron moved out and dad retired they had no reason to keep the big house and sold it to move out to the middle of nowhere."

Anne-Marie smiled and took a bite out of her sandwich. "You never thought to join your father's ventures?"

"Nah. Too many times have I seen my dad dragged to the Wizengamot to answer allegations of breaking laws and improper discovery tactics on the job. I applaud how he helped people, but with all the trouble I saw him in I'd just as soon do his job on the government's order."

"Smart move. My father got his own ass in a sling enough when he was an agent of the bureau." Anne-Marie wiped her hands on the napkin in her lap and rested her elbows on the table. "So why am I your partner? Seemed Shacklebolt was planning on setting us up as partners the minute he saw me; any idea why?"

Williamson shrugged and sat back, considering the witch before him. "I'm young, twenty-seven. You're young, though it's not polite to ask your age. I hear you're a risk taker. So am I. You're pretty, I'm pretty." At this Anne-Marie blushed. "Take your pick. Shacklebolt had a reason I'm sure, but I won't pretend to know why." He sat forward and looked at Anne-Marie: her dark hair matching her equally dark eyes, the color of chocolate. Her freckles dusting her nose. The way a stray curl of hair fell out of the tie at the crown of her head restraining the rest of the locks. "I'm sure if we spend enough time together we'll figure it out."

DEAD AND UNDEAD

Seether nodded approvingly. Anne-Marie had been in the hospital room for her treatment for a couple of hours. It was the twelfth of many more to come. As Healer Seether made notes on his charts and made noises of a generally pleased caretaker, Anne-Marie dressed herself back in her robes for work and gathered her files she had been reviewing.

"You're finally showing some improvement," Seether stated. "Your skin is rash free and you've been able to spend a good deal of time out in the sun. Sleeping better at night as far as we can tell from your sleep studies."

"Same time next week?" Anne-Marie asked as she lifted her bag onto her shoulder. Seether nodded and bid her farewell. Anne-Marie scurried out of the building and into the subway to the other end of the district so she wouldn't be late for work. Not that Kingsley would have done anything. He knew that she was being treated for her condition every Monday Wednesday and Friday. Still, Anne-Marie was trying to keep Wesley from asking too many questions about it. It wasn't that she thought he would make fun; she knew he never would. She just didn't want her new partner to think she was a weak pick, like his boss had stuck him with someone who needed to be babysat. This morning however, there would be no such luck.

It turned out there was a power outage and as a result Anne-Marie had to take a few extra trains to circumvent the problem. Therefore she was late walking into the office by an hour. By then the daily meeting had let out and Wesley was at the desk reviewing a few files of his own as Anne-Marie slapped hers down on the desk. "Sorry I'm late. Power outage on the subway."

Wesley nodded. "I heard. Shouldn't have been a problem for you though, you live right around the corner from here." He set aside one folder and picked up the next one, eyeing her over the top of the papers. "So where were you?"

Anne-Marie sighed. She hadn't been around long, but after spending twelve hours or more with Wesley five days a week for a month she knew he wouldn't have been asking if he hadn't already looked into it. He knew she had been at the hospital. In fact by now he probably knew she had been there a dozen times in the past month since she moved to London.

"I was at St. Mungos. Like I am every Friday morning."

"And Monday and Wednesday too," Wesley added, laying down his reports. He lowered his voice and leaned across the desk toward Anne-Marie. "I'm not going to demand you tell me, it's none of my business. We're still getting to know each other. But as your partner I would be grateful if you would let me know what is going on, so I'm aware. Just in case anything happens to you."

Anne-Marie nodded and stood up, wagging her finger at him to follow her out of the office. She led him out of the auror office and into the main rooms of the law enforcement department toward an interview room. Once they entered the nearest one, Anne-Marie shut the door.

"I'm being treated for vampirism. I was bit last year."

Wesley pulled a shocked face but said nothing.

"There's a healer at St. Mungos by the name of Seether who has made a study of vampirism and how to alleviate the symptoms from those who previously lived a fulfilling life. He works in behavior therapy in combination with various potions to encourage the proper result, like taking sleeping draughts at night and being woken in the morning hours until you sleep like that without help from potions. It's cutting edge, but it'll never get me my job back."

"That's why you moved here." Anne-Marie nodded at Wesley's deduction. "And it's why you left your previous job."

Another nod. "At the bureau you could only continue to serve if you have no outstanding conditions. After I was bit they dismissed me. I stayed with my dad seeking help from American healers, but they didn't do any good. I went searching for a specialist and found Seether here."

Wesley had never seemed to be the overly sympathetic type, but now he pulled Anne-Marie into an embrace and held her tight. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," Anne-Marie pulled away and smiled bravely. "It's just a thing. Nothing that'll keep me from working. I promise. The treatments have been going great. I sleep better than ever at night, I can go out in the sun for almost a full day now without rashes and I promise I will never bite you."

"I know that."

Just then the door opened and Scrimgeour stuck his head inside. "There you are. I've been looking for you two. Enough of your schmoozing, I'm sending you out to Hogwarts. There's been an accident. Look into it."

An hour later Wesley and Anne-Marie were at the school investigating the death of Barty Crouch Sr.

Seemed he had been just fine the day before. They spoke with his secretary, Percy Weasley, about how he had been taking a lot of sick days since the Triwizard Tournament started, but that he didn't know anyone with reason to off him. He did however mention something about the strange events of the tournament. "And it all started with Potter being named a champion." Wesley nodded and pulled Anne-Marie aside for a moment to whisper a few things to her. While Wesley continued to grill Percy, Anne-Marie left to canvas the area where the body was found. But on her way there, as she crossed the bridge between the outer grounds and the school, she came across someone unexpected. The real thing she had been sent out of the interview to find.

A boy was standing on the bridge, looking out toward the mountains. He was a teenager, with dark hair and glasses. Anne-Marie couldn't be sure, but she was too intrigued not to ask. "Excuse me." The boy turned toward her. "Are you Harry Potter?"

The boy crossed his arms and countered with another question. "Who are you?"

The boy was smart. "I'm Anne-Marie Dalton. One of the aurors investigating the murder of Mr. Crouch. Could we sit down?"

Harry shrugged, so Anne-Marie sat on the wooden boards with her back against the railing. She motioned for Harry to sit alongside her and he did. "I hear you've been having a rough year here. Being nominated for this contest must have rattled you up. The headmaster seems to think there's someone dark here making all the moves. Any idea who it might be?"

"Why ask me?"

Anne-Marie shrugged. "The way I've heard it, you have a knack for solving mysteries. Just asking for an opinion." Harry wouldn't meet her eye and didn't answer. Anne-Marie sighed. "Listen, I'm not trying to pin anything on you. But you're in the middle and you've been effected most by the occurrences here. I was just wondering if you had any idea of who could be doing this. But I understand if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you I wouldn't be too keen either." Anne-Marie stood up and started to walk back to the castle, but no more than a half dozen steps she was stopped.

"Wait," Harry said, grabbing her arm. "I've seen things. And overheard things. You seem like I can trust you. Am I right?"

"Harry, where I come from my job is to protect and serve. And right now it would seem my job is to protect and serve you and everyone else caught up in this whole mess, from the students to the headmaster and everyone in between."

Harry hesitated. Then he said quietly, "I think this is way beyond just this tournament."

They started walking, and for an hour that gloomy afternoon, Harry filled Anne-Marie in on everything from Karkaroff to the strange meetings with Severus. Following their talk, the slight witch made one more visit before catching up with her partner at the school's gate: the headmaster. By the time Anne-Marie left with Wesley that evening she had a very long list of things to look into, starting with the disappeared journalist.

Wesley sighed in a frustrated tone as they rocked back and forth on the Knight Bus headed back into London. "Why do you want to go looking into something that isn't even a crime? Her disappearance isn't anything of our concern; she's a featherheaded idiot!"

"Because I think Harry and the headmaster are onto something. And if they are, then all these strange occurrences started with the missing journalist."

She called out to Earl, the driver, to stop the bus at the corner where the Ministry entrance was. Wesley sighed and chased Anne-Marie off the bus and into the phone booth that was going to take them down to the second floor below street level where the law enforcement office was. "I don't know what you're grasping at, Anne-Marie. But I can't say I completely disagree. I'll get the files, you clear the desk?"

She nodded as the booth opened on their floor, which was dimly lit and deserted. They walked down the corridor, Anne-Marie's heels clicking against the marble floor. They walked briskly, as though every second were precious. "And while you're there in the record hall, get me the reports from the officials who attended the world cup in August, reports of Mr. Crouch's sick days over the last year, and all of the records down there relating to Igor Karkaroff and Severus Snape."

Wesley saluted her sarcastically before veering off in another direction to extract the records. Anne-Marie hurried to their desk and cleared it off, making room for what was assured to be a very long night.

NEVER SAY NEVER

All anyone outside the school knew was that there was a tragedy. Anne-Marie, Wesley, and Kingsley were making their way up the walkway toward the school, wondering what they were going to find. It didn't take long before they met a slew of people, supposedly from the tournament, virtually fleeing from the castle and its grounds. Kingsley stopped the woman in front who was sobbing uncontrollably.

"What's going on here?"

"One of the champions is dead!"

Kingsley turned to Wesley. "Secure the gates. No one leaves." Wesley nodded once and scurried off back down the path to carry out his orders. "Everyone return to your seats!" The crowd obeyed, though grudgedly and the small group of officials followed.

Along the path they were met by Dumbledore, the headmaster. "Pleased to see you've responded so quickly," he said, and together the group walked up toward the castle. Once inside, Dumbledore spoke.

"We finally have our perpetrator in all these occurrences. Everything from Bertha Jorkins' disappearance to the unfortunate events of this very evening has been explained."

"So you caught your traitor then," Kingsley commented.

"Indeed. The thought to be deceased Barty Crouch Junior. He's detained in the defense office, under Verataseum. He's already told his story once, under my questioning, but he's more than capable under the potion to tell it again. We gave him enough to last for several more hours, at least."

Kingsley strode alongside the headmaster as Wesley and Anne-Marie trailed behind. Anne-Marie didn't seem to be paying much attention. Wesley leaned into her, saying, "Are you all right?"

"I was about to head for the Blood Bank Pub to eat when we were called away. I'm starving…"

Wesley reached for her hand and squeezed it. He knew from experience now that depriving Anne-Marie of sustenance when she was truly in need was dangerous. She would never bite anyone on purpose, but she definitely would have to bite something. And judging from the pale tone to her skin, she was running out of time.

At a juncture in the main corridors Kingsley gave his orders. "Wesley, you're with me. We need to speak to the other players in this game, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff-"

"I'm afraid he's rather gone missing, my friend," Dumbledore interrupted.

"Very well, we'll worry about him later. Might we also question your staff as well?" Dumbledore nodded. With that Kingsley turned toward Anne-Marie. "Go stay with Crouch and wait for the Minister. Dumbledore says he wants to question the man himself, but that doesn't mean we can't ask our own questions. Get everything you can from him before Fudge arrives. I don't trust him to be objective under the circumstances."

"Voldemort has finally returned," Dumbledore said, in explanation to the circumstances being referred to. There was silence for a moment.

"Is that a fact?" Wesley asked. In answer the headmaster nodded once again. "According to Harry Potter, Voldemort has not only returned, but he has friends among us. Dangerous times are about to be had, my friends. Can I count on you?"

"Absolutely," Kingsley asserted. "Come, we have work to do."

Wesley and Kingsley headed for the grounds while Dumbledore showed Anne-Marie to the office where the potions master Severus Snape sat with Barty Crouch Junior. "Help her retrieve the same information from him that we have Severus, and anything else you can think of." And with that the headmaster was gone.

Severus held out a hand. "Professor Snape, potions master."

"Anne-Marie, auror. May I?"

Severus stepped away from the prisoner and Anne-Marie knelt down beside him. "Can you hear me?"

Crouch's eyes flew open and he turned his head to look at Anne-Marie. "Yes."

"Can you tell me everything you told Albus Dumbledore tonight?"

"Yes." And he began. The story took him about twenty minutes to tell, and by the end, Anne-Marie's head was spinning. Though from the information or her hunger it was difficult to say. Probably a combination of both. Also she was tired. Recently she had begun sleeping at normal hours for human kind, and it was at this point very late at night. However she shook it off and stood up, turning to Severus. "Anything he left out?"

The potions master shook his head so Anne-Marie turned toward her prisoner. "Anything else you would like to say?"

"No."

"Can you please close your eyes and sleep?"

And he did. Anne-Marie sighed. "Well that's it then. I'm supposed to stay here and wait for the Minister. I'm surprised he's not here by now."

Just as Anne-Marie was about to check her watch the door to the office opened. Minerva McGonagall led Cornelius Fudge inside, followed by a dementor. The room turned icy and the candles went out. As a frosty film started developing on the sneak-o-scopes on the tables Fudge rounded on Crouch. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers just once. Before anyone could do anything, the demeanor swooped down and started feeding on the soul of the unconscious man on the floor.

Dumbfounded, everyone merely stood there, watching as Crouch became a soulless man, only able to drool and stare into space for the rest of eternity. When it was over, the dementor removed itself from the victim and returned to its place beside the Minister, who ordered that it return to the prison. It drifted out of the room, but Severus followed it (Anne-Marie assumed to make certain no one came across it unexpectedly and unarmed).

"What have you done!" Minerva began shrieking at the Minister. "You've ruined the man who could have cleared up countless murders! Led you to the real culprit! We could have used him, you buffoon!"

"Well, I should very much like to speak to Dumbledore about your manner, Professor!"

"Go right ahead! You'll either find him in the courtyard consoling the dead boy's parents or in the hospital wing watching the other champions be treated for curses, jinxes, and shock!"

They continued screaming at one another as they exited the room and stomped their way down the hall, leaving Anne-Marie alone with the former Mr. Crouch.

Her stomach rumbled. It was now that Anne-Marie got a terrible idea. It wasn't as though Crouch would ever be able to testify to the courts about his involvement. In fact he would never be able to speak about anything again. Or walk, or even turn his head, feel any emotion ever again. What would be the harm in draining this man? Not that she needed to drain him. Only a couple of cups would suffice. But she needed something.

Anne-Marie crouched down by the man again. She reached a shaking hand toward the collar if his shirt and pulled at it, exposing the skin of his throat. It was dirty, and looked entirely unappealing, but dammit she needed to eat. She looked behind her shoulder briefly before opening her mouth wide and allowing her fangs to extend themselves well past the rest of her teeth until they were fully extended. Just as she was lowering her head to bite into Crouch's flesh, however, there was a hand on her shoulder. She spun around and there was Wesley.

"What are you doing?"

Anne-Marie let her fangs retract again and let Wesley haul her to her feet. "Fudge brought a dementor in and commanded it to suck his soul. He's gone. Minerva followed him out and they were screaming at each other."

"Yeah I saw that."

Anne-Marie started crying. Her bloody tears ran in wet, red streaks along her face. "I'm sorry Wesley, I'm just so hungry and it's not like he's a real person anymore anyway."

Wesley sighed. "But he is evidence. Kingsley and Rufus are going to want a look at him and I would be required to out you. Kingsley knows, but I'll put my pension on Rufus being outside the loop."

Anne-Marie nodded and attempted to wipe her tears, but only managed to smear them along her cheeks. Wesley pointed his wand toward her and siphoned the blood away to reveal clean skin once again. "I've got an idea."

Wesley took Anne-Marie and led her down to the grounds where Kingsley was waiting for them. "Ah," he said as they approached. "There you are. Well, this circus isn't going to get any better with us staying, but we've got more than enough work ahead of us tonight."

With that he led them back to the road where they could call the Knight Bus and head back into the offices in London. On the way Kingsley described that they would all have to work on their write ups of the evening's events, making sure to omit anything having to do with the dark wizard's return. Then they would have to catch a few of their colleagues as they came in to the office the next morning, explain what had happened and attempt to get them on the right side before the Minister could come up with any cockamamie explanation for the night's events. Upon their arrival Wesley stopped his boss, saying, "Do you mind if we catch some shut eye in the cribs before getting to work on our write ups of tonight sir?"

Kingsley waved them off and so Wesley and Anne-Marie made their way to the room lines with bunked cots. Anne-Marie's was in the back corner on the right, and that was where Wesley led them both.

"You said you had an idea," Anne-Marie said in an annoyed tone. "I'm hungry, not tired."

"I know." Wesley removed his outer robe as he sat beside her on her bed. He then unbuttoned his shirt and removed it to reveal his muscular form and swept his mahogany ponytail out of the way, saying, "Bite me instead." Anne-Marie stared at him with her mouth hanging open. "I know you can feed without turning, vampires only turn when they drain someone and then feed their own blood to the person." He smiled wryly. "Please don't drain me, I'd like to live, but I'd rather you feed from me. I can protect your secret better than a ward of the state."

Anne-Marie hesitated. She didn't want to bite her partner. That could complicate things between them far more than she wanted to. But her head was started to get lightheaded and if she didn't eat something soon she was going to pass out. The Blood Bank would be closed by now; it was well past two in the morning. Without any other options, Anne-Marie swung her legs up onto the bed and knelt beside Wesley. She straightened his head back on his shoulders and instead took his forearm in her hands as she opened her mouth to let her fangs drop. She placed them to his forearm, close to the elbow so that the cuff of his shirt might hide the puncture marks later, and bit down.

His warm blood flooded her mouth and she sucked it down greedily. Her hands stopped shaking and she was feeling strong and vibrant again. After over a year of purchasing all manner of animal blood from menagerie owners in America and England for her feedings, it was a true feast for her to taste the blood of a human being. But she remembered that this was her partner, her friend. There was no need to drain him and as soon as the ache in her stomach subsided she let go, pressing the sleeve of her black shirt to her mouth to keep the blood from dripping further down her chin. With her other hand she pressed on Wesley's arm.

"You should keep pressure." His hand replaced hers and Anne-Marie turned away, hiding her stained mouth and fangs. "You should clean up before we go back on. I was a little messy."

"I don't mind," he said, sounding tired, but otherwise normal.

Without turning to face him, Anne-Marie uttered a small, "Thank you."

"Hey," Wesley rested a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. He lifted her chin then and smiled at her. "Anything for you."

OR SOMETHING LIKE IT

"Damn, I forgot my glasses again." Anne-Marie had stopped short before the exit elevators from the Ministry, leaving with Wesley early one afternoon. They had a discussion with Kingsley that morning about their lack of enthusiasm over the upcoming media stunt the Ministry was throwing at the end of the month and had ordered them not only to attend but to get something new to wear, on the department dime (anything to make good face since the tournament, Shacklebolt had said). Anne-Marie and Wesley were being sent out to purchase new dress robes for the Ministry ball that was being held July 29th. Fudge was trying to create a care free façade for the public to try and make it seem as though nothing was wrong.

Very much was wrong in the Minister's world, as a matter of fact. Less than a week after the tragedy at the school the papers had started running stories quoting Dumbledore's cryptic warnings. It took less time than that for Fudge to order the editors to crack down and start editing and even running different versions of what the byline writers were writing and handing in, and ordering that anyone who objected in any way, vocal or otherwise, was liable to be tossed in Azkaban; no hearing, no questions asked. That shut up the more moral writers pretty quick, particularly the ones with families. In response to the suspicions being voiced by the general public, whispers being heard between housewives on their errands in the alley, Fudge had ordered his undersecretaries, which now included a member of the Weasley family, to organize a large event which would include politicians, well to do families of wealth, famous researchers and intellectuals, all department heads, the entire law enforcement department, and various individuals who had been asking questions of those who rubbed elbows with the Minister. Instead of being forthcoming, he was dazzling them. Typical, Anne-Marie had uttered, before agreeing with Wesley that they would go out to a pub like they did every Saturday night instead. Neither wanted anything to do with the farce. But apparently since they had been so close to the events of the final task of the Triwizard Tournament it would have made a bad impression if they hadn't been in attendance. And so they were excused from work the day before the big party to find some new duds. Anne-Marie had never been to the shopping mecca that was Diagon Alley so Wesley offered to be her tour guide, stop her off at a few of the other stores to look at some interesting things before they hit up the robe shop. But as they started to make their way out at lunch time, Anne-Marie found that her sunglasses were not in her bag. "I'll have to go get them before we go."

"No need," Wesley dug in the breast pocket of his robes and drew out a pair of chrome rimmed, mirrored aviators. "You always forget."

Anne-Marie smiled and accepted them gratefully. "Thanks partner."

Twenty minutes later they were walking down the sunny stretch of shops and store fronts, stopping once in a while to look in. Wesley admired the newest racing broom in the window of Broomstix, saying he should consider it for his brother's birthday in the fall (apparently Aaron was an avid broom collector as well as a bookie for the gaming department). Anne-Marie stopped into the apothecary, Slugg and Jigger's, and, upon noting the bottle of thestral blood on the shelves proceeded to purchase it for what Wesley considered an exorbitant price. She explained that she had only consumed it once, but it was a rare find unless you went to a menagerie and special ordered it from a breeder.

Wesley showed her Ollivander's shop, Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, Flourish and Blotts (where Anne-Marie dallied about the dusty shelves for almost an hour), and the Magical Menagerie before they proceeded to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions on the hunt for dress robes. When they walked in Anne-Marie was going on about the fruit bat she had seen in the menagerie, saying that she had no owl anymore since she had moved from across the Atlantic and might very well consider the creature for her replacement. Madame Malkin greeted them and invited them both to look on the racks of their respective sections of the store while she stored some shoes in the back room.

Anne-Marie spent less than ten minutes shifting through gowns on the women's side before choosing two options. One was an aqua blue number dazzled with crystals. It didn't have a very impressive skirt, but the detail was impeccable. It was a possibility. Following her attempt with this dress Wesley came out into the light to see how he looked in his own pick. He was wearing champagne colored robes underneath with a black over robe. Anne-Marie poked her head out of the curtain to her own dressing room to offer her opinion.

"That's nice," she said appreciatively. "And ironic." She opened her own curtain to reveal her second choice of gown. It was a structured bodice of black velvet with a flared hem over a champagne colored skirt reaching to the floor. It was a perfect ringer for a color match to the robes he himself had chosen. And she looked just as good in champagne as he did. He saw how it made her sun kissed skin glow brighter and her chocolate hair seem silkier. Then Wesley took note of the overall effect the gown had on his partner. The skirt was full and the entire silhouette was pleasing, accenting Anne-Marie's thin waist and placing emphasis on her breasts, which she admitted aloud to Madame Malkin as she stood on the pedestal and the seamstress marked the length of hem on the skirt. At this Wesley chuckled a little.

After changing back and paying the shop witch for her robes and services Anne-Marie and Wesley stepped out into the street again. The crowd that had been there during the day had started thinning and the sky was beginning to darken. "There's a lot more I wanted to see," she said, storing her glassed in her bag.

"I'll take you back here someday. Next weekend maybe."

Anne-Marie raised an eyebrow. "I can come on my own. I'm not a civilian."

Wesley shrugged. "Still, you're unfamiliar with the place. Besides, I like spending time with you outside of work."

Anne-Marie didn't say anything and just continued walking alongside her partner. As they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron so they could rejoin the muggles of London and make their way to their respective homes, Anne-Marie stopped short, looking at a narrow alleyway that was just to the right of the pub. "What's down there?"

Wesley hurried her along with a hand at her lower back. "Nothing good."

They stopped at the bar inside and took a couple of stools. Wesley ordered a couple of firewhiskeys, which came in small, eight ounce bottles, and once they had arrived started elaborating.

"That alleyway is called Knockturn Alley. Any respectable witch or wizard would not be caught dead there. All the shops are specialized in dark arts and related subjects." He took a sip from his bottle. "I've been there a few times, looking in on some store keeps about the items they release on the market after we've confiscated them from the lowlife that buy them. Illegal creatures being kept as pets, dangerous artifacts, rare some of them; so rare they belong in museums. Deadly poisons are a big one these days. The apothecary down there is full of it."

At this Anne-Marie perked up and got very interested. "Apothecary?" She lowered her voice. "Would they sell human blood there?"

Wesley leaned in. "Well, yeah, but we think it probably gets taken off of muggles by force. We can't prove anything. Besides, you know you can feed off me whenever you want."

"I don't want to make a habit of it."

Anne-Marie sipped from her bottle of whiskey but pulled a face as it went down. Wesley watched her carefully. "It's been a while since you had anything hasn't it?"

Anne-Marie didn't answer.

"I've never seen you have a hard time stomaching your booze before." Anne-Marie still didn't answer him. He lifted his drink to his lips and drained what was left of his whiskey before standing, collecting his bag from Malkin's, Anne-Marie's, and offering his arm like a gentleman. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Anne-Marie took it and he led her outside. As soon as they stepped beyond the door Wesley apparated them both and a moment later they were standing in her living room. It was dark by now, so Anne-Marie swished her wand toward a lamp and it flicked on. Once the light had flooded the room Wesley walked from the living room of the apartment to the kitchen and set the various bags on the island. Anne-Marie shrugged out of her outer robes and tossed them on her armchair. She flopped down on her couch across form the chair and kicked off her shoes. Wesley walked back in and Anne-Marie pointed toward the television set. "Ever seen this stuff? I used to watch a lot when I was a kid, but after my mother left my dad started going all out with the wizarding ways and the t.v. didn't get as much attention. I started watching again after I left home for good when I turned seventeen and got a job. Damn…that was four years ago now. Time flies."

Wesley sat down with Anne-Marie on the couch. "Do you always talk a mile a minute when you're in your own home after dark?"

She looked sheepish and responded, "Sorry. I get nervous sometimes, inviting other people home with me."

"I've been here before." Wesley was now confused. She had invited him in before. Usually only for a few minutes in the morning when he made it a point to drop by to go over the open cases during breakfast. "What's different?"

"Well…you're usually here in the daylight. This is different. The tone is a little more…intimate. And I can't guarantee my behavior still. Seether says my nocturnal tendencies are still a little shaky; it's a struggle to keep up being calm."

Wesley sat back and draped his arm over the back of the couch behind Anne-Marie. "I don't mind the intimate setting. As for the nocturnal tendencies, I think I can handle myself." His tone took on an air of superiority, as though Anne-Marie's concerns were of no consequence. And maybe they were. He was after all more than capable of handling someone more than twice Anne-Marie's size. "So, you need to feed right?"

Anne-Marie was hesitant. What she had said was true; she didn't want to make a habit of feeding off Wesley. It was unclear what could happen if she got into the habit of feeding off one person. Wesley had tasted so good the first time she had tasted him, Anne-Marie didn't trust herself not to get hooked on human blood like so many vampires did. Wesley was rolling up his sleeve. The punctured from the month before were already faded, hardly noticeable.

Anne-Marie was watching him, mesmerized by the revealing of the skin of his forearm. Though she felt the battle raging on in the pit of her stomach, the need to bite fighting against the will power not to bite, she was able to speak, however faintly.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me." He secured the cuff of his shirt.

"I will if you keep tempting me."

"I trust you." Wesley extended his arm toward her.

"Oh that's good," Anne-Marie said breathlessly, "because I don't know if I do."

Before she knew what was happening her lips were encasing her fangs which were deep into Wesley's arm in the same place she had before. His blood was warm and delicious in her mouth. The spicy sweet tone it seemed to carry was intoxicating. She could have taken in all five quarts and still desired more. She hung on longer this time. Not on purpose, it was a struggle for Anne-Marie to separate herself this time. When she finally did, Anne-Marie let herself fall back onto the opposite end of the couch as Wesley as far away as she could get. When she looked to him he looked pale. In a panic, Anne-Marie rushed back to him and grabbed his arm, pressing her hand hard on the punctures and ignoring the blood dripping from her chin. Wesley blinked in an odd fashion. "You going to faint on me?"

Wesley looked at Anne-Marie calmly. He was close to her face, close enough to count the freckles on his nose. As Anne-Marie continued to hold onto his arm his free hand reached over and hooked itself around her neck. Wesley pulled her into his and their lips met. His tongue glazed over her lips, begging entrance, which she granted him. Their tongues danced together for a long moment before they parted. Once they did Anne-Marie was panting slightly, eyes still closed, relishing in the memory of the feeling. She opened her eyes and noted that Wesley's face was smeared slightly with the blood from her own mouth. She used her thigh to pull the end of her sleeve over her hand and wiped his mouth off with a smile. Though she had no idea why she was smiling. She was confused as hell. And along those lines once she was done cleaning Wesley's face she asked, "Why?"

Wesley shrugged. "I just…I enjoy it. I don't know why. I like how it feels when you feed off me. Don't get me wrong," he added hastily. "I have no desire to try it myself. I just like the pinch of pain. It kind of…excites me." Anne-Marie was mesmerized. She could only listen to him and hang on every word he spoke. "I've never experienced anything like this before. I'm curious if you would be okay if we continue exploring this." Wesley took Anne-Marie's hands. "I know it's frowned upon to have relationships with your colleagues, let alone your partners. But I have strong feelings for you. I'm just…curious."

"So what else would you like to explore tonight?" Anne-Marie smiled coyly. Wesley more than leaned in this time. This time he positioned himself on his knees and crawled into Anne-Marie, causing her to lay back with Wesley towering over her. He kissed her again and ran his hands over her body. He felt her breasts through the shirt and ground his growing erection into her crotch. He pulled at her shirt and tore it feverishly over her head revealing the flesh toned lacy number. Anne-Marie continued to encourage the passionate kisses as she undid the buttons of his shirt and pushing it away from his chest running her hands over his pectorals and well chiseled abs. Wesley transferred his weight into one hand so he could wriggle out of the shirt and discard it on the floor with Anne-Marie's. With the increasing discomfort in his slacks, Wesley leapt off the couch and quickly undid the button and fly, stomping his way out of them and yanking down his shorts, standing before Anne-Marie in all his glory. Anne-Marie stood up and took Wesley by the shoulders, turning him so his back was to the couch. She pushed him back and he fell smack in the center. Anne-Marie stared him in the eye as she removed her own pants and underwear, unhooked her bra and walked back toward him. She rested one knee on either side of his hips and settled in his lap. Wesley leaned forward with a hand on each cheek and took one of her nipples in his mouth, suckling and teasing it with his teeth. Anne-Marie lifted herself a little and resettled herself onto his erect member, groaning as she took in his entire piece. He let her set the pace for a few minutes, moaning breathily. A moment later he pushed himself and Anne-Marie with him off the seat of the couch and onto the hardwood floor, pinning her hands down by the wrists and pushed into her, harder and faster. Anne-Marie moaned loudly relishing in the feeling until she felt the warm gush of fluid running down her buttocks and felt the tingling warmth spread over her body. A few moments later Wesley groaned long and loud before letting his body down gently on top of Anne-Marie, who wrapped her arms around him after he released her hands. She stroked his sweat soaked brow as their breathing synched up naturally.

A while later as they lay naked together on her apartment floor, Anne-Marie thought to herself, 'that felt like an expression of true love…or something like it.'

POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE

The party was a success as far as the eye could see. Everybody who was anybody was there. And while Anne-Marie wasn't thrilled about it, she was having fun. Mostly that was because Wesley was with her and they had both been drinking. Booze, in her opinion, always made the difference between a lame party and a damn good time. Seeing as there was a never-ending supply of butterbeer, firewhiskey, mead, several elf made wines, and muggle alcohols. Spellbound had been invited to sing for the gala during the downtime from the classical band. By that time many of the older attendees has called it a night and either taken a sea in the dining portion of the transformed entrance hall to the Ministry. The younger of those in attendance were all on the floor, enjoying the small nod to pop culture the Minister's secretaries had bowed to for the occasion.

When they had arrived, Wesley had been fully dressed in his new robes, shoes shining, hair slicked and perfectly dapper. Anne-Marie had walked in on his arm, stunning in her new gown, curls pinned back delicately and bright red lips glistening and glossy. After two hours of the orchestra playing during the dinner Spellbound came on, and by the time they were wrapping up at the end of the night most of those who had been on the dance floor during their run were disheveled from reveling. Anne-Marie and Wesley were no exception. His coat had been discarded of, her hair was a mess. But everyone was all smiles. Everyone except the short and stout witch who was weaving her way through the crowd with aurors Dawlish and Savage. The law enforcers looked nervous, but the witch, she looked pompous and overly confident.

"Miss Dalton," she called out. The crowd looked toward her and a few did a double take between her and Anne-Marie, some ten feet away. Anne-Marie approached the short woman, saying, "Anne-Marie Dalton, can I help you?"

The witch smiled poisonously. "Why yes. I'm Delores Umbridge, senior undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and you are under arrest."

She nodded toward Dawlish and Savage who stepped forward, each of them taking a hold of Anne-Marie's arms. Before she could ask anything, Wesley stepped forward pulling their hands off Anne-Marie and holding her close to him in a protective manner. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Your partner is a dangerous half-breed," Umbridge said haughtily as though that explained everything.

"And?" Wesley prompted.

"She is a vampire, and yet is also a member of the highly elite law enforcement branch of the Auror's Department. Think it strange that this wasn't disclosed to those whom she had very…close contact with?"

"No, I don't," Wesley responded angrily. "Because her condition is not a crime."

"She never registered with the Ministry."

"It's not required by law; the Wizengamot ruled that registration be option over a decade ago. And there is nothing on the books stopping anyone, law enforcement included, from hiring someone known to have the condition." Wesley stepped away from Anne-Marie now, closing in on Umbridge and towering over her. "She's done nothing wrong. That's a fact. It's also a fact that you have no more authority to arrest someone than any other citizen, regardless of who your boss is, making this a citizen's arrest. If you insist on trying to take her into custody I'll return the favor by arresting you for false arrest, which is a crime. And I do have the authority to arrest." He dropped his voice low, adding, "This is my partner. Don't test me."

Umbridge looked around for a moment before that sickening smile crossed her face again. "Fine. Have it your way," she said. "I believe I'll get what I want, with or without you in my way." And without explaining she turned tail, leaving the crowd. Anne-Marie watched her go and when Wesley met her eye she asked him, "What the hell was she trying to do?"

Wesley was about to say something when Kingsley showed up beside them. "You both should come with me, now."

They followed him to the offices down on the second floor. When they walked into Kingsley's personal office in the Auror Department the elder auror motioned for the younger two to have a seat, which they did.

"I know you didn't do anything wrong," he started by saying. "Wesley is right. There is no law saying that those with vampirism need to register; it's entirely optional. There is also nothing on the books that allows an employer, government or otherwise to refuse to hire or fire an employee over the condition, and it is certainly not a crime to have it."

Wesley was pinching the bridge of his nose and had his eyes closed while Anne-Marie just stared blankly at her clasped hands resting in her lap. "There's a 'but' coming isn't there?" Wesley asked.

"But," Kingsley continued, "I am fully aware of the opinion of the general public on those with your condition, Anne-Marie, and unfortunately aurors are not immune to those opinions. Because of the ruckus it might cause in the department, I am with the utmost respect…asking you to step down from your position."

Anne-Marie was quiet for a moment. Then she unclasped her hands and leaned forward, looking intently at Kingsley. "You came looking for me. You searched me out. Now you want me to forfeit my job." Kingsley's face remained stoically remorseful. Anne-Marie sighed and sat back, crossing her arms. "I don't suppose you forgot that I took this job so quickly because I needed the coverage for my treatment?"

"Of course not. But for pomp and circumstance it would be best if you resigned from your position now rather than let your co-workers run you out." Kingsley folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "No one knows more than I do that vampires can lead perfectly respectable lives with normal careers. Most of them are artists, though. This is a different game."

Anne-Marie exchanged a glance with Wesley. Terrible as it might be, Kingsley was right. Umbridge outing her would cause a riot in the department if she didn't resign. The office had never had a non-human or even a part human employed. After the scene at the gala no department would dare take her, not wanting to alienate the minister. With nothing more to say, Anne-Marie simply agreed and left with her partner.

Wesley didn't think she should be alone so instead of taking Anne-Marie to her apartment, he brought her to his cottage in Tinworth. His parents had let him have it when they retired to the country. Anne-Marie accepted a pair of his sleep pants and a tee shirt, changing as Wesley made coffee. They drank it while sitting on the porch and watching the moon glint on the ocean.

"I'll have to vacate my place," Anne-Marie said. "My bills to St. Mungos are going to cost more than a few sickles if I'm unemployed. Won't be able to afford it anymore." She sipped from her mug. "Won't be able to afford much."

"Would it help if I let you bite me?"

Anne-Marie laughed sadly. "Not this time. You're delicious, but like I said…habit."

"How about if I say you can stay here with me?"

Anne-Marie looked up at Wesley, who smiled at her. "We'll fix this," he said. He reached out his hand and took hers. "You're my friend. My partner. My lover. I'll do anything to keep you here and keep you healthy. We'll fix this."


End file.
